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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168330">nothing compares</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwrights/pseuds/starwrights'>starwrights</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, No beta we die like lilith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:42:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwrights/pseuds/starwrights</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Solomon thinks as Asmo starts tugging down his pants, they should probably stop doing this. Whatever <i>this</i> is. Mostly because they're, well, friends. Plus the fact that they haven't really talked about their arrangement. They're probably friends with benefits, maybe, possibly. But they haven't even established that much. For now, they just have a <i>thing.</i> </p><p>A thing where Asmo comes over whenever he's restless or lonely or bored, does whatever he pleases with Solomon and Solomon lets him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asmodeus/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>nothing compares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>wrote this a while ago but i never got around to posting it but since obeymax exists i'm gonna pretend i wrote it for that, specifically for asmo's (and solomon's) day(s)</p><p>very loosely inspired by got my number and love u by monsta x</p><p>also, this is un-beta(ed) so, i apologize for the mistakes here and there</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Solomon opens his door and finds Asmo pouting at the other side, he already knows it’s going to be a long, long night. </p><p>He has half the mind to tell Asmo to just go home but then the other boy gives him his most blinding smile and Solomon knows then and there that he’s lost. Asmo doesn’t even wait for Solomon to invite him in and just passes through the threshold as if he owned the place, and Solomon can only watch as Asmo throws himself on the couch and starts drinking the unfinished beer Solomon’s been nursing from earlier. </p><p>Sighing, Solomon makes his way to the end of the couch Asmo’s not occupying. And though he already knows just why Asmo’s here so late at night on a weekday, he still asks, “What happened?”</p><p>Instead of answering, Asmo finishes up the beer and tosses the can in the vague direction of the coffee table. Solomon would’ve told him off any other day but he doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Asmo’s on his lap, giving him a <em> look </em>that Solomon’s been receiving one too many times ever since this first started. </p><p>“Nothing,” Asmo says, leaning impossibly close, enough that Solomon can feel his breath ghosting his lips. It takes all of Solomon’s self control not to close the distance. “Just a little lonely.”</p><p>They’ve been doing this often enough now that Solomon knows <em> just a little lonely </em>means Asmo’s been dumped by the asshole he’s been dating and is in need of a distraction. Solomon has no idea how it came to this, though—it was just movies at first, video games, the occasional drink or two, before Asmo falls asleep on his couch and moves on to his new conquest. </p><p>But now Asmo’s on his lap, so pretty and needy, grinding his hips down on Solomon’s, rendering his thoughts so utterly useless. </p><p>He doesn’t get to think much after that. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Asmo’s always been a bit of a flirt. </p><p>Well, maybe that’s understating him a bit. The man flirts with just about anyone he fancies and the surprising thing is, they all fall for it. But even then, Solomon thinks, he can’t blame them. Asmo’s pretty and charming on his worst days, absolutely captivating during his best. It doesn’t help that whatever Asmo does is veiled with this air of allure that’s bound to charm anyone that comes his way.</p><p>That’s not to say Solomon’s been wanting to jump his bones since they met, because, honestly, <em> no</em>. Asmo was a friend first more than anything else, and Solomon’s known him since they were thirteen. Asmo was nothing but a brat back then. Cute, but a brat nonetheless. </p><p>It’s kind of hard to reconcile that pouty, snot-nosed spoiled brat to the man breathing softly against his chest. It’s also hard to reconcile the fact that Asmo was there to begin with, eyelashes fluttering softly against his cheeks as he breathes out a steady rhythm. </p><p>Solomon debates waking him up before he decides not to, carefully removing himself from Asmo’s embrace to get ready for the day. He goes through the usual motions, with a little detours. He makes breakfast for two instead of one, and puts Asmo’s strewn clothes into the washer before heading to the shower. When he finishes, Asmo’s still fast asleep, now snuggling the pillow Solomon’s been using. </p><p>The sight makes something in Solomon’s chest seize up momentarily, has him holding his breath. He ignores it, shakes his head and continues dressing up. He has thirty minutes before his morning lecture and if he doesn’t leave in the next ten minutes, he’d be late. </p><p>He ponders waking up Asmo to tell him he’d be leaving because, technically, he could just write him a note or send him a text and be done with it but.</p><p>He’s a weak man.</p><p>So he walks to his bed and sits by the bedside, reaching over to shake Asmo lightly to wake him up. Asmo stirs, his hair fluttering down his forehead in waves. He looks ethereal like this, with the sun lighting up his features and mingling with his hair. He smiles sleepily up Solomon, eyes still half closed. </p><p>Solomon fights back the urge to run his hand through Asmo’s hair and fails.</p><p>“Goodmorning,” he says, smiling. “There’s breakfast in the microwave, and your clothes are in the washer. I need to get to class so just make sure to lock the door when you leave.”</p><p>“Ehhh,” Asmo whines, snaking his arms around Solomon’s waist and looking up at him with a pout. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”</p><p>“You know I can’t,” he says, but he does indulge Asmo a bit, cupping his cheek and stroking over his cheekbones. “The prof’s a stickler for attendance.”</p><p>“You’re such a model student,” Asmo grumbles. He hasn’t let go of Solomon just yet. “It wouldn’t hurt to skip classes every once in a while.” </p><p>“Yeah, no,” Solomon laughs, untangling Asmo’s arms from his waist. “I have a scholarship to maintain.” </p><p>Asmo huffs, but he gives and releases Solomon. “Boo. So boring.” </p><p>Solomon just laughs again, pinching Asmo’s cheek lightly for good measure, “I’ll see you later.” </p><p>Asmo sends him a wink in lieu of a reply, and blows him a kiss before disappearing under the covers. Solomon just shakes his head at his antics, so incredibly fond. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It’s less than a week later when Asmo turns up at Solomon’s apartment again, only this time he isn’t just a little lonely. He’s bored, which, unlike last time, means exactly what it is. That doesn’t mean Asmo doesn’t end up on Solomon’s lap again, indulging himself with Solomon’s mouth, breaking away only to press messy kisses along his jawline every now and then. </p><p>In retrospect, Solomon thinks as Asmo starts tugging down his pants, they should probably stop doing this. Whatever <em> this </em> is. Mostly because they're, well, friends. Plus the fact that they haven't really talked about their arrangement. They're probably friends with benefits, maybe, possibly. But they haven't even established that much. For now, they just have a <em> thing</em>. </p><p>A thing where Asmo comes over whenever he's restless or lonely or bored, does whatever he pleases with Solomon and Solomon lets him. </p><p>In his defense, it’s really hard to turn down Asmo when he’s so good with his hands. And his mouth. And with everything else he does to Solomon. Captivating, he’s just so damn captivating. Solomon’s always prided himself with being logical and level headed, but as it turns out, lowered lashes and a coy smile is all it takes for Solomon to break.</p><p>But maybe it’s because it’s Asmo in particular. Solomon’s pretty sure if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t have caved in so easily but Asmo’s, well… Asmo. Solomon’s always found it hard to say no to him, and even if he tried, Asmo just pouts and whines until he gets his way. </p><p>Still though, there’s a persistent nagging at the very back of his mind that they shouldn’t be doing this. Solomon’s not sure if he can— </p><p>His train of thought gets interrupted when Asmo starts nipping at his ear, hands tightening around Solomon as he does. “What are you thinking about?” Asmo whispers, voice low in Solomon’s ears. </p><p>What was he thinking about? He’s not so sure anymore, really. It’s kind of hard to think when Asmo’s touching him in earnest, mewling when Solomon slips his hands up his shirt, his body arching and pressing into Solomon’s. </p><p>So he answers, “Nothing,” then thinks about it and says, “How good your hands are.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Asmo hums, laughing a little. “They are good,” he declares, and proves it.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It becomes a routine, almost. Like clockwork. </p><p>Asmo starts dating someone at the start of the week, only for them to break up barely two weeks later. Then Solomon finds him outside his apartment, all coy smiles and needy hands. Solomon barely even has time to lock the door before Asmo’s pushing him against the wall, pulling him down by his collar so he could make a mess out of Solomon’s mouth with his own. </p><p>And Solomon lets him, hooks his hands over Asmo’s legs so he could carry him to the bedroom, barely even seeing where he’s going but not daring to break free from their kiss. </p><p>And it’s good, <em> amazing </em> even. Asmo’s always so warm and pliant, body so responsive, twitching and keening at his every touch, every graze of his hand. Solomon loves it, loves every second of it, loves every sound that comes out of Asmo’s mouth. Every mewl, every gasp, burned into his ears like a brand. </p><p>"Have you ever thought about it before?" Asmo asks one night. He has his face buried against Solomon's neck, lips brushing up against his skin every time he talks. "Sleeping with me?"</p><p>"No," Solomon answers immediately. He didn't even have to think.</p><p>"Boo," he doesn't need to see Asmo to know he's pouting. "You're lying."</p><p>"I'm not," Solomon tells him, laughing a little. And quietly, earnestly, says, "You know I'm not."</p><p>Asmo just hums, pressing himself even closer to Solomon's side. "Then why..."</p><p>Asmo murmurs the last few words, and Solomon fails to catch the rest of the question. He pulls back a bit, squinting in the dark room only to see Asmo looking uncharacteristically shy. Solomon finds it strangely endearing.</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>"No, it's..." Asmo refuses to look him in the eyes, choosing instead to bury his face in Solomon's chest. "It's nothing."</p><p>"You sure?" asks Solomon. "You can tell me anything, you know."</p><p>He can feel Asmo's arms tighten around him just the tiniest bit. "I know," He says, voice small, nuzzling against Solomon's chest. And then, "Ugh, why can't it just be you?"</p><p>It's playful, Asmo's words. Tinged with the ever constant lilt to his voice, the tone he uses when he's teasing or flirting. Solomon knows this. He knows this more than anyone else but somehow he finds his heart beating madly, thundering violently against his chest, and for a moment it's all he can hear. </p><p>It lasts for a moment too long—long enough that Asmo looks up from where he's laid down on his chest, voice obviously confused when he asks whether or not Solomon's okay.</p><p>"It's nothing," he says in a rush. It's an echo of Asmo's words just a few minutes ago. </p><p>Asmo narrows his eyes, picking up on the obvious lie but he doesn't press him, just sighs and lays his head back down on Solomon's chest. </p><p>If he feels Solomon's heart racing, he doesn't say anything about it.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>A few weeks later, their arrangement comes to a sudden, withering end.</p><p>It’s Friday, and usually by this time, Asmo’s already at his apartment. He's running late, but Solomon chalks it up to traffic, or a date clingier than the rest, and sets to finish some light reading before Asmo eventually comes knocking. But when an hour passes and Asmo hasn't sent so much as a text, Solomon starts to worry. He's calling Asmo before he knows it, his fingers drumming restlessly on the book in his lap. </p><p>It rings thrice before Asmo picks up, and Solomon doesn't know what he was expecting—maybe Asmo's usual greeting, or something teasing. What he didn't expect was a mewl, then a broken gasp, filtering clearly through the receiver. And it's familiar.</p><p>Oh so familiar.</p><p>"Asmo?"</p><p>"Sorry," comes Asmo's voice a few moments later. He sounds breathless. "I should've – <em>hah </em>– I should've texted."</p><p>Solomon's not stupid. He knew what was happening the moment Asmo's voice came through the receiver. He just wishes he didn't have to hear it. </p><p>Still, though, he asks, "What… what are you…?" </p><p>"I'm – <em>hng –</em> preoccupied," Asmo manages to giggle, before it breaks off into a gasp. "I'm sorry I–"</p><p>And then it cuts off.</p><p>Solomon wants to laugh. Honestly, he should've known. Asmo is insatiable. It was impossible for Solomon to satisfy him by himself, for his attention alone to be enough. He knew that from the start, from the moment Asmo crawled onto his lap all those months ago. He knew not to expect anything.</p><p>Still, there's an unpleasant feeling threatening to crawl up his throat, and it feels horrible, unbidden. They're just fuck buddies Solomon reminds himself, repeats the truth in his mind over and over again, willing himself to calm down, to chase away the white hot anger he has no right to bear, threatening to override every rational thought.</p><p>It doesn't work.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>When Asmo comes over the next week to tell Solomon about the guy he's been seeing, and how <em>he's amazing, Solomon! I really like him this time, </em>Solomon knows the words <em>so we should probably stop doing this </em>comes unsaid.</p><p>But it's there, all the same.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>obviously, i have a thing for asmo getting on solomon's lap. but ANYWAY, this was originally supposed to be just one chapter but since solomon has his own day, i decided to post the second half on the 21st! (don't hate me).</p><p>anyway, thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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